Fragments
by nomdeplum9
Summary: Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain. Rating for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- **Another, longer venture into the Bones fandom. So far, I have three more chapters ready, but if nobody likes it I'll just leave it. I feel like a little kid at the edge of a pool, dipping my toes in before taking the jump. Consider this my jump.

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

They were having one of their famous arguments again. She was trying to disprove a theory and he was backing it up with every ounce of strength he had. There was yelling, some name calling, and various references to their many faults.

She had gone home that Friday evening upset and intent on spending the rest of the weekend tucked away in her apartment, writing her books and listening to music.

He had gone home to a message on the machine with an offer that, at the time, he felt he needed to take.

She was going to stew for the weekend, mutually apologize Monday morning, and move on.

He was going to leave, God help him, and he was going to do it that night.

**XXXXX**

Gordon Gordon had encouraged him to share his thoughts and feeling in whatever way possible. The good doctor sincerely believed that letting it all out, so to speak, would help him to understand and cope with the things around him.

That, and it would prevent any more holes in ice cream trucks.

Keeping the words Gordon had said to him clearly in his head, Booth settled down at his coffee table with a pen in his hand, intent on writing the most difficult thing in his life, even if he was still angry with her.

_Bones,_

It sounded too impersonal, like he was writing a sticky note he would attach to a case file.

_Dear Dr. Brennan,_

Too formal, he hadn't called her by her surname in ages.

_Dear Temperance,_

That was entirely too personal. He could count the number of times he had called her by her first name on one hand.

Finally, he settled on…

_Dear Bones,_

Simply because it was the only thing that fit.

_Dear Bones,_

How was he supposed to explain this? Eventually, he decided to simply right out what he imagined a conversation about the subject would be like, without the yelling.

_Dear Bones,_

_I am so sorry that I could not tell you this in person, but our partnership has been temporarily terminated. Without going into too many classified details, even though you're probably privy to all of them, I've been asked to perform a service for my country and I intend to do so. I suspect Cullen will assign another agent to take my place. I hope that my replacement treats you and the squints with the respect due to an amazing team._

_I know I don't need to remind you of this, but please be careful in my absence. Don't get into too much trouble and be aware if you go out into the field. You probably think I'm condescending, but I only want to make sure you are safe._

_I am so sorry for leaving like this, sending my farewell in a letter and at the same time being "alpha-male." Yet, the truth is that I don't know when I'm coming back to DC and in what capacity I will be working in when the time comes._

_Give my regards and goodbyes to Hodgins, Angela, and Zack. I will see you soon._

_Yours,_

_Seeley Booth_

It was short, sorrowful, and as Booth sealed the letter and dropped it off in his mailbox with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, so very final.

He had said goodbye to Parker and Rebecca, his note was in the mail. He could count on the FBI coming to his apartment in the next few days, clearing out his stuff so that he wouldn't be paying the rent. It was small compensation for serving his country.

It was nothing compared to having to leave.

It was nothing compared to knowing that his Bones would hate him for leaving, just as everyone before him in her life had.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- **Here's part two, I hope you enjoyed the first part!

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

"It's been two days, Ange, and nobody has seen or talked to Booth!" Brennan exclaimed. "What if something has happened to him? I'm tired of the damn FBI stone-walling us!"

"Calm down, sweetie," Angela supplied, knowing that her friend was worried.

"Don't, Ange, don't tell me to calm down!" she snapped, but her attention was quickly refocused on the nervous person on the edge of the platform. "Yes, Zack?"

"Dr. Brennan, this just came in the mail for you," he said slowly, willing himself to be anywhere but where he was.

"What is it?" Angela asked. Brennan quickly crossed the room, snatched the letter away, and froze when she saw the handwriting.

"It's from Booth," she mumbled, sliding a finger under the tab and ripping the envelope open with more force then necessary.

The two other people in the room watched with mild interest as the scientist's eyes quickly scanned over the single page in her grasp.

"I'm supposed to give you both Booth's regards and goodbyes," she said finally, tears forming despite her attempts to keep her emotions in check.

"Oh, sweetie," Angela began, but it was too late. Brennan had already turned on her heel and was racing down the steps into her office.

**XXXXX**

Writing had always been Brennan's outlet, from the time she was a child, through her teenage and college years, and up to the point where her first book became a bestseller. Now she sitting at her desk, pen in hand and paper in front of her.

_Booth,_

Was the simple beginning. He wasn't going to read this anyway, what did it matter? She just needed the release.

_Booth,_

_You bastard. You rotten, cowardly bastard, how dare you take off like that? I thought we were partners, were friends, and I may not have a lot of experience in social interactions, but you damn well believe that I thought I deserved better then that. A letter? You coward…that's no way to deal with things._

_Angela and Zack were there when I opened it. I was arguing with Angela about how Cullen was shrugging me off when I tried to find you. Zack came in holding the damn thing in his hands and they watched as I read it._

She paused, taking deep breaths as she reread everything she had written, from the insults to the little retelling of how the letter had come into her possession.

_I hope you have fun "serving your country."_

In a final, desperate effort to quell the emotions she knew so well, she closed the letter with one sentence. Four little words that were the complete opposite of how she felt, no matter how hard she tried.

_I won't miss you._

**XXXXX**

"Sweetie, open this door!" Angela called, banging her fist against the wood. Brennan jumped and folded the letter away into an empty drawer in her desk.

"Allow me to help," Hodgins said, a small smile on his face as he produced an untwisted paperclip.

"Pick it," the artist directed. He jiggled the lock and after a moment, a small "aha!" of triumph was heard and they burst through the door.

"Bren, sweetie, what happened to Booth?" Angela asked.

"Special Agent Booth is no longer the liaison between the Jeffersonian and the FBI. You all should expect a new agent to be coming by the lab in the next few days to fill the position," Brennan said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"But…" Hodgins started to protest, but Brennan interrupted him.

"Special Agent Booth is gone, Hodgins, and it is unclear how long he will be away or if he will return at all. It is my suggestion that everyone goes back to work and prepares for the new agent. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to be left alone." The tone of her voice indicated the conversation was over and left no room for arguments.

Silently, Zack and Hodgins filed out of her office, but Angela paused in the doorway to leave her friend some words of advice.

"It's okay to miss him, you know, because I'm sure he's missing you."

Pointedly, Brennan made a point of ignoring her.

**XXXXX**

_I hope you're happy, Booth…_

She was writing again, it seemed she couldn't stop. She had gone home and dug out an old spiral notebook, and after pasting the letter she had written in her office, picked up a pencil and started another letter.

_Angela's worried, Hodgins is unsettled, and Zack is confused. He doesn't like to deal with other agents._

_I hope you're happy, because it wasn't some career you left, or a city or a place or a job._

_It was people, Booth. It was Angela, Hodgins and Zack. It was me. What about Parker, huh? What about your son? You've left him, too. Is it worth it?_

_I have warned everyone at the lab to prepare for another agent. I can assume that everyone will bounce back. Angela will flirt with him, Hodgins will make him nervous, and Zack will undoubtedly confuse him. And I? I will be the leader of the squints, the lab-dwellers you people come to seeking answers but never once regarding as something of importance._

_It doesn't really matter anymore, because everything has changed._

Quietly, she reflects on just how much things have changed. Wong Fu's will be a squint hang out, though she dreads having to explain his absence to Sid. There would be no more "kidnappings" where he'd drag her out to a crime-scene. She may not be allowed to go to a crime-scene anymore, or tag along on an investigation. There'd be no more meals at the diner, no guy-hugs, no good-natured arguments…

_No more, Booth. Things have changed now, and this is it. No more changing. No more partners, no more relationships, no more you._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- **Part three, folks!

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

"Excuse me? I'm looking for a…for a…Dr. Brennan? Is she in?" A young, blond man stood at the edge of the platform, almost as though he were nervous to ascend.

"I am Dr. Brennan," Brennan said slowly, making her way down the steps. Flanking her were Hodgins and Angela; Zack was busy cleaning a bone.

"Agent Samuel Carter. I am the new liaison between the FBI and Jeffersonian." The agent stuck his hand out for her to shake, but she kept her arms crossed defensively.

"Well, Agent Carter, I am one of two forensic anthropologists here at the Jeffersonian. Dr. Addy," she motioned to where Zack was peering through a microscope, "is the other. Dr. Hodgins is the resident entomologist and expert on minerals and other earthly substances. Miss Montenegro specializes in forensic facial reconstructions."

Brennan paused, allowing the new agent to soak up the information.

"Now, do you have a case?" she asked him. He shook his head slowly.

"Goodbye, then, Agent Carter. Stop by when you require our assistance," she said coldly. Without glancing back she turned and refocused her attention on the remains in front of her.

**XXXXX**

_Well, Booth, I've met your replacement._

_He's nothing like you._

_He's young and, from what I can tell, inexperienced and eager. I do not believe he will last long at the Jeffersonian._

_I wish you were here. I want to fight and scream and make you understand. I thought we were friends, Booth. I was so ignorant, I thought you cared. I thought I could argue and you would still respect me enough to listen. I yelled, you yelled, and you ran._

Brennan wiped at her eye, comfortably situated in bed. The day had been rather uneventful, thankfully. She wasn't looking forward to their first case with Agent Carter.

_I can't believe you're gone. I can't believe that you could just leave us like that._

_I was so wrong. Is it as easy as it seems? Is it as easy as everyone around me makes it appear to be?_

_Was it the argument? I'm sorry, is that what you want to hear? I should've let up; I shouldn't have pushed so hard. I screwed up and this is my punishment._

When she had gotten home, the first thing she had done was rid her apartment of the pictures she had of them. There weren't many, but now they were sitting, face-down, in a box at the bottom of the closet.

_I've gotten rid of you. I couldn't stand looking at your face. I did the same thing with my parents and Russ. It's the only way I can make it…_

She sighs angrily, banging her fist on her folded knees and just allowing the tears to come.

_Damn it, Booth. I'm crying. I wish you could be here, just so that you could watch me break. I hate that you've done this. I hate that we fought and that I pushed you away._

_I don't miss you at all._

Gently, she curls into herself and cries, just for one night.

**XXXXX**

The next day, the doctor is clean, cold, and ready. The tears she had shed would be the last for the lost agent.

Angela was the first to notice the subtle changes in her friend. On the outside, she appeared just as she had before. Now, though, Angela watched as her friend silently ate alone, in her office, and focused more on her work and her book, and didn't joke or laugh or smile, it would seem.

In the early afternoon, while Brennan was typing another chapter in her book, Agent Carter showed up.

"Dr. Brennan? We have a case," he said, pausing at her doorway. Angrily, she looked away from the screen.

"I'm very busy right now, Agent Carter, but I believe that Dr. Addy would be happy to accompany you to the crime-scene."

She dismisses him and turns back to the screen, leaving him no choice but to go find the younger anthropologist.

Angela watches the scene from the hallway.

**XXXXX**

"Hello, Director Cullen?" In a final, desperate attempt, the artist calls Booth's old boss. She had, after all, formed a bond with his daughter.

"Miss Montenegro, how are you?" She notices how he sounds tired.

"I'm okay, but actually I'm calling about Booth."

The silence on the line is deafening.

"I cannot discuss Agent Booth's current assignment," he began.

"Please, sir, I'm worried about Dr. Brennan. They had an argument Friday night, and he was gone by Monday morning, and from what I understand he didn't tell her anything, and now she's closing herself off, and I can't do anything to help her!" Angela rushed.

"Miss Montenegro, I cannot discuss Agent Booth's assignment," he repeated.

"Can you tell me anything, anything at all?"

"I expect him to be back and working in three to six months, but because I am not in communication with him at the moment I cannot tell you for sure. Goodbye, Miss Montenegro."

Click.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- **Part four, I hope you're enjoying my story!

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

_Booth,_

_It's Angela. I talked to Director Cullen and he promised he would pass this along to you. You've been gone for about a month and a half now, and everyone here misses you terribly, even Brennan._

_She's destroying herself, Booth, and nobody here knows what to do. She makes Zack go out with the new agent…she doesn't leave the lab much now. I know for a fact that she sleeps here at least three nights a week, probably more. I can't get her to come out with us anymore. The only time she eats Wong Fu's is when she can get it delivered._

_She doesn't let me talk to her anymore. I haven't had an un-work related conversation with her since about three weeks after you took off._

_I don't know what you two argued about, but please, just come back okay? Brennan's hurting and she won't let anyone near her. I won't play the blame game with you, because she's probably blamed everything on you already. I don't know, don't want to know, and don't really care about what was said between you two, but I think she's beating herself up for some of the things she said while at the same time being angry for what you said._

_Please, come back safe._

_The one and only,_

_Angela_

**XXXXX**

_G-man,_

_I won't bother you with a "how ya doin'?" or anything like that. Ange said she wrote to you about a month ago and she hasn't gotten anything back._

_You've been gone almost three months, dude, where are you?_

_You know what? Stupid question, because by the time the government sees fit to give you this letter you're probably going to be back with us "squints."_

_Anyway, the real reason I'm writing is because I'm worried about Brennan. I don't know what Angela told you, but she's doing pretty badly. It's like a ghost is permanently at the lab. She throws herself into case after case, but she never goes out with the agent anymore. She says she's also busy writing her next book, but to be honest, nobody can definitively say what she does in her office all those hours._

_One time, Zack was out sick and Carter, our new agent, came by with a case. He dragged her out to the crime-scene. She was pissed, dude. And she's scary when she's pissed. I'm pretty sure she gave Carter that fat lip two weeks ago, too, but that's just a rumor._

_In case you can't tell, she's a wreck without you._

_Uh-oh, it sounds like she's on the warpath now…and I haven't finished identifying those particulates…_

_Good luck, man, and know that everyone around here misses you._

_-Hodgins_

**XXXXX**

_Three months, two weeks, five days, and this morning, Booth._

_That's how long you've been gone. That's how long I've been counting and waiting for you to come back, just so I can have closure._

_I've got to tell you, though, I really hate being the one left behind. I really, truly, completely hate being the one left behind, time after time. I hate missing people, I hate not knowing what happened. I hate that what I've believed since I was fifteen really is true._

_Allowing someone to care only clears the proverbial path to destruction._

_I never told you about my ten months in the foster system, did I? I felt just the way I do now. In ten months, I was shuffled between a group home, two foster homes, and another group home before my grandfather got me out._

_I visited a shrink three times. Once when I first entered the system, once because my foster parents wanted me to, and once when I was leaving._

_It goes without saying that I didn't stay with that foster family too long._

_I remember feeling like this. I couldn't do the simplest things because they reminded me of Russ and my parents. I'd be standing at the sink brushing my teeth and remember a song my mother used to sing when I would brush my teeth when I was little, and I'd have to stop what I was doing and shut myself in a closet or room._

_You'll be happy to know I'm perfectly safe. I haven't been out on a case since you left. I hardly even go to crime-scenes._

_It reminds me too much of us._

_It reminds me that now there won't be an us again._

**XXXXX**

_Booth,_

_It's been four months now, and I just don't know what to do. You're still not back, Brennan is still distant, and I've given up. We all have._

_I don't think there's anything more to say, really. Agent Carter, your replacement, seems to be fitting in around here now. Zack approves of him, Jack doesn't scare him, and I like him well enough. He's made it, even though all of us had our doubts. He's a good man._

_I think this is the last time you'll be hearing from me. The only thing I can do now is damage control for my best friend._

_From,_

_Angela Montenegro_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- **Just for the record, this is the last of the pre-written chapters, so updates might not be as frequent. I'll do my best, though.

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

_I'm pretty sure Angela knows what I'm doing…that I'm writing to you. I think she's written to you, too. Have you gotten her letters? Does she tell you how much everything's changed? How she's worried about me?_

_Against my previous thoughts, Agent Carter has managed to do well as the new liaison. He hasn't left and slowly people here in the lab accepted him._

_I think he'll be content with this job assignment for a long while._

**XXXXX**

"Welcome back to D.C., Booth. It's good to see you back with us safe and sound," Cullen said, extending his hand for Booth to shake.

"It's good to be back," he mumbled truthfully. "When can I move back into my apartment?" He cast a wary glance at the suitcase by his feet and wondered absentmindedly if he could find a hotel close to the lab.

"The agency should move back all your belongings within the next day or two. Before I forget, one of the squints dropped off a few letters for you. I'm supposed to pass them along." The older man moved to his desk and withdrew a small group of envelopes.

"Do you remember who dropped them off?" Booth asked.

"I believe it was Miss Montenegro. If you'll excuse me, I have an important meeting to attend. Take the rest of the week to set up everything at home, I'll see you in my office on Monday."

"Yes, sir," was the automatic response.

**XXXXX**

With his superior out of the room, Booth was able to focus on the letters in his hand.

Three envelopes…two of them bore Angela's loopy handwriting and the other Hodgins' hurried scribble.

Someone, probably Angela, had scribbled dates from the past five months in the bottom corner of the envelope.

He made his way to the lounge before ripping into the first one, from Angela. It was three and a half months old.

_Booth,_

_It's Angela…_

He read the letter slowly, taking in every word before moving onto the next.

_Please, come home safe._

_The one and only,_

_Angela_

Guilt formed immediately in the bottom of his stomach, knowing that his sudden absence hadn't been explained properly. Angela wouldn't be treating him like that if she knew what he had said to her, what she had said back.

The next one was from Hodgins, and it was a little over two months old.

_G-man,_

Booth smiled at the nickname and quickly read the letter with the same determination as he had the last.

…_she's scary when she's pissed. I'm pretty sure she gave Carter that fat lip two weeks ago, too, but that's just a rumor._

_In case you can't tell, she's a wreck without you._

Tears stung at his eyes and suddenly he felt ill. Dr. Temperance Brennan, Dr. Temperance kick-your-ass, independent, stubborn, proud Brennan had changed into the person Angela and Hodgins had both described in their letters.

And he had done it to her.

He anxiously studied the last letter, again from Angela. It was a month old. He debated even reading it, thinking that it would be just like the others.

With a heavy heart he made his decision and slowly opened the envelope.

_Booth,_

His stomach dropped. He could still put it down, he had only read the greeting, it wasn't too late.

He kept on reading.

_…I've given up. We all have_

He shook his head fervently, almost tearing apart the single sheet of paper in his grip.

_I think this is the last time you'll be hearing from me. The only thing I can do now is damage control for my best friend._

Booth let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding as he finished reading it.

He could only think about one thing as he pocketed the letters and got into his car.

What had he done?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- **Here's another chapter. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I promise Booth and Brennan will have a confrontation next chapter.

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

Booth's eyes flew to the platform as he ran into the lab. Gasping for breath, he quickly scanned the room, searching for his partner.

Only Angela, Hodgins, and Zack were working.

He must've stood idle for a moment, because before he knew it Zack was nudging Hodgins and pointing at him.

Both of them stood up and made their way to the edge of the platform, arms folded and a stony expression on their faces. He stood helplessly at the bottom of the stairs because he didn't have his card with him.

Neither Zack nor Hodgins offered to let him in. Instead, they fixed him with a hard glare that he had only seen them use on Brennan's date.

They looked at him as though he was an outsider, and they were wary of him.

"Boys, step down," came a female voice, and Booth felt a rush of relief towards the artist. She made her way around Hodgins, who frowned and nodded his head to her. Both men turned on their heels and went back to work without acknowledging Booth at all.

She took their place, arms folded and the bangles around her wrist clinking in the eerie silence that filled the lab. A heeled foot tapped to an imaginary rhythm.

"You're back." It was a statement, not a question. Silently, he doubted whether it was even directed at him. He glanced down at his feet, not wanting to look her in the eye.

"You shouldn't have just shown up here."

At this his head jerked up and a glare appeared on his face.

"Why not?"

"Did you even read the letters?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," he snapped, sticking his hand in his pocket. His anger grew as he waved them at her.

"Then you should know it isn't good that you're here. She can't handle this," Angela said softly.

"But she needs to know that I'm back," Booth protested. "She needs to know that Agent what's-his-name is as good as gone."

"You think that will fix everything?" The amazement leaked through the bitter sarcasm in her voice, she was in awe of how clueless this man could be. "You think that by sending Carter away you can come to the rescue and everything will be back to normal? It won't happen, Booth. The letters don't do her justice. She's so far gone now, I don't know what, if anything, can bring her back."

He noticed that her words, however harsh, were laced with a sadness not unlike what he was feeling.

"Can you please take me to see her?" he asked quietly.

"You know I won't. She didn't deserve you taking off like that, none of us did. We all lost a _friend,_ someone we thought we could _trust._ And Brennan, Booth….you were her link to the outside world, to people, to everything she didn't know. You broke the link and in turn, you broke her."

"You weren't there, though! You weren't there, that night, when we had the fight. Ange, we both said stuff we didn't mean, and I thought it was for the best! I thought it would be better for the both of us if I just went away!" He was back to yelling, openly expressing his anger.

Angela didn't flinch under his hard glare but returned it easily.

"She let you in for a reason, Booth! Damn it, why are you so stubborn? She let you in, and she only does that for a few people. And you take that, cultivate that friendship, and turn around and say that you abandoned her and it was _for the best?_ You don't even understand what you did!" she retorted heatedly.

"I…" he began, but she shook her head fiercely.

"I'm not finished yet! You don't even know her at all, do you? If you did, if you were really partners with her, you would know that she feels that she wasn't good enough, and that's why her parents left. You can build up the FBI case, tell her that her father is a criminal, but it won't change what she believed for the better part of fifteen years. She wasn't good enough, so they left! And so she closed herself off. She lets you in, and what do you do? You leave! You abandon her like it meant nothing to you! So now she's gone and convinced herself that she's worthless! She's cold and distant and work-absorbed and alone because she thinks feeling nothing is better then feeling worthless!"

"But she isn't worthless," he mumbled.

"Now you get it!" she groans, sighing loudly. "But you got it about five months too late."

"Angela?" a small voice called, interrupting the pair. "Why are you yelling?"

Both the artist and the agent froze.

"Angela? What's going on?" The voice was getting louder, and footsteps were heard rapidly approaching the stairs to the platform.

"Sweetie," she began, but it was too late. The footsteps stopped, leaving a terribly pregnant pause before…

"Booth!" Brennan gasped.

Skin-on-skin contact was heard, then the loud thuds of a speedy retreat.

She had slapped him and ran.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- **Ok, so I cheated and worked some song lyrics into the story. I don't own them, and brownie points for whoever can guess which songs I used (everything from Broadway to rap/rock to country (hint-hint)). If nobody gets it right I'll post the answers next chapter…which may not happen until next week. I'm going to be too busy reading Harry Potter!

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

"Brennan, sweetie, wait!" Angela cried, almost flying in her desperation to reach her best friend. Just as she rounded the corner of the platform, she turned to face Booth. He was standing still, in shock, and touching one hand to his stinging face.

"I hope you're happy now," she spat at him angrily.

The harsh words directed at him seemed to bring him back to the present.

"Angela! Angela, damn it, hold on a second!" he shouted at her, running to catch up with her. "I should be the one to go after her."

"Right, because you're _so_ good at that," she snapped, but then her face and voice softened. "I just can't let her hurt anymore. She's broken, Booth, and I'm not sure you're the right person to fix her."

Her words went straight to his heart, which was aching more by every passing second.

"Please, Angela," he begged. "I have to be the one to fix her."

She thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"God help me Booth, if she comes out of this badly and you take off, you will not like the results," she informed him, the thinly-veiled threat doing nothing to lighten the mood.

"Thanks, Ange."

He took off past her, following the path Brennan had taken in her escape. Her office was dark and he determined after a quick sweep, empty.

The only other logical place for her to go in this direction was the garden outside. He remembered their lengthy talks talking place out there in the beginnings of their partnership, especially after her return from Guatemala.

Booth exhaled a heavy breath as he watched her figure trolling the flowers, under the assumed safeness of the evening.

She was walking, very steadily, in the direction opposite the Jeffersonian. She was walking away.

"Bones!" he yelled, hoping that she would hear him, notice him or hell, even hit again him. He just wanted a response from her.

He thought she wavered in her steps, but it might have been just his imagination.

"Bones! I'm sorry!" he yelled again, now only about fifteen feet away from her.

He was startled when she turned back to him, tears flowing down her face and a notebook in her hand.

"It's too late to apologize, Agent Booth," she whispered. Her voice was scratchy from crying and she felt another wave of tears coming on.

He winced at the sound of his formal title.

**XXXXX**

Brennan turned and started to walk again, unsteady on her own two feet. She clutched the notebook like it was her lifeline.

Maybe it was.

She veered off the path down the center of the gardens and made her way to a grassy area. She didn't trust her legs to last much longer.

She was sobbing, almost hysterically, for the first time since the night after he had left.

She sank down to the ground gracefully, gasping for breath and control of the situation once more.

**XXXXX**

"Bones!"

Booth had been following her slowly, approaching her with caution. He watched in horror as she crumbled to the ground and listened as her cries echoed in the otherwise silent garden.

Immediately, he sprinted towards the quivering body that was Temperance Brennan, broken and alone, yelling her nickname frantically.

**XXXXX**

Brennan jerked away from his touch as Booth reached to help her stand.

"Leave me alone," she whimpered, each word punctuated by a shaky breath or sob.

"Bones, please," he pleaded, but she shook her head instantly.

"Don't call me that!" she cried.

She took deep, calming breaths to work herself down from the weeping wreck she had been. She emptied her mind of thought and emotion and felt the familiar coldness settle in her heart after a few minutes. Gently, she dried her eyes and willed away the redness.

Once she was back to the cold persona she had adopted when Booth had left, she turned and looked at him with a cold expression.

"For five months, I've let you control my life completely." She gestured to the notebook, almost forgotten on the ground. "And before that, I made the mistake of trusting you. I can't let it happen again. I'm getting on with my life, and it has to start with my goodbye."

She paused, then made a split-second decision to press the notebook into his hands.

"Goodbye, Agent Booth."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- **Ok…the "I hope you're happy now" lyrics come from various songs in the musical Wicked, but I suppose they could be from somewhere else. When I wrote them, I was thinking of a shrill soprano voice saying them. "It's too late to apologize" comes from a OneRepublic/Timbaland song called Apologize. The part about "getting on with the rest of my life and it starts with my goodbye" is from Carrie Underwood's hit Starts With Goodbye. I don't own any of it.

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

Temporarily stunned, Booth stood there staring at the notebook in his hands as Brennan made a quiet escape. It was getting late, so he brought the notebook back to his car and drove to the hotel the FBI had booked for him.

"Do not disturb" was placed on the door and the notebook and the squint's letters were placed on his bed. He fidgeted into a comfortable place beneath the covers and hooked the notebook by the rings.

The cover was opened and he was greeted by a handwritten note hastily glued onto the first page.

It was addressed to him, and very neatly dated, showing it had been written mere days after his disappearance. Apparently, his letter had been delivered by then.

He started shaking his head slowly when he read her insults.

…_you rotten, cowardly bastard…_

His hands balled the sheets in a white-knuckled grip as he read a sarcastic remark.

_I hope you have fun "serving your country."_

_I won't miss you._

"No, no," he whispered, although only the pages could hear him. Her final remark, her final thought on the day she had discovered he had gone, had left the room spinning and an empty, sickly feeling in his stomach that was getting worse by the second.

**XXXXX**

He referenced Angela's and Hodgins' letters, matching up dates as he progressed. So far, everything they had said could be proven true by at least one letter the anthropologist had written.

_I hit Carter today, Booth. He wanted me to go out into the field with him and I was fighting to stay in the lab. He said something like "How did Booth manage you for so long?" and I hit him. Hard._

_I don't need "managing." I've never needed it, asked for it, expected it, or wanted it. Not from him, you, or anyone._

He stayed up reading for the better part of the night, committing every word to memory.

**XXXXX**

Maybe it was a mistake, heading back to the lab the next morning. He had only had a few hours sleep, but the notebook was in his hands and he wanted to talk. Now.

Brennan was already there, working on something private in her office, already beginning to regret giving him the letters at all. She had written them privately, under the assumption that they would never be read by anyone else. There were things in there, dangerous things that she didn't want him to know.

There were several loud knocks on her door, followed by the handle being twisted in vain.

She would always be grateful for locks.

"Bones? I know you're in there. Open the door."

It was _him._ She didn't want to talk to _him_, but one thing needed to be straightened out right away.

"Don't call me Bones."

The door opened a crack as she snapped at him, and it was all he needed to push through and enter the quiet office.

"I thought we should talk about this," Booth started, waving the notebook.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Really? I thought there was plenty to talk about!" he said heatedly. "Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't have written me all of this!"

"I was wrong to give those to you." Her voice was even and emotionless. "I never intended for you to read them."

"I—what?" he asked.

"When I wrote them, I wrote them believing that you wouldn't read them. Those are private thoughts."

"Then what? You were going to keep writing? Let me come back and never once mention that you had practically written me a small novel in my absence?"

In a fleeting moment Booth thought he saw emotion in the now-cold eyes of his Bones. Try as he might, he couldn't name it in time. She blinked, and it was gone.

"Well? What is it?"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Booth. You should have no problem leaving me to my work," she said boldly, turning her back to him and shuffling the papers on the desk.

The leaving comment was not lost on him.

"Come on, Bones, just talk to me!"

She paused, and for a minute he thought he had won. Slowly, she turned back to face him and that emotion was on her face again, just for a second. She opened her mouth…

"I don't have anything to say Booth. Not anymore. Goodbye."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N-** Seriously, now, where are the reviews? My goal is to get five reviews for this chapter. I won't post a new one for less than three! Aren't I mean?

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

Booth stood there, rooted to the spot. She turned away, ready to go back to her work, and all he could manage to do was stare at her, disbelief in his eyes.

"You write me every day for the past five months, and just now you decide that you don't have anything to say?" he asked quietly.

"What is it that you want from me, Agent Booth? Hysterics? A huge, dramatic scene, maybe, that ends with us having a perfect partnership again? I can't give you that."

"Why not? Yell at me, hit me, just please, do something! Don't be like this!"

Instantly, he knew he had made a mistake. Her eyes glittered with a sudden burst of rage and passion.

"Like what, Agent Booth?" she hissed.

"Like…like you don't feel anything," he mumbled.

"But that's all I have left. I was in despair and denial after my parents, I was angry and in disbelief after Russ, and after you I was in such a shock and desperation you couldn't possibly understand. Each time, it was worse. So please, Booth, tell me, what do I have left to feel?" she implored. "What emotions remain?"

He was silent, carefully thinking over everything she had said. Her words cut deep, just as deep as her letters, and he found himself remembering their last conversation before he had left.

The pause in conversation was enough for her, and it seemed as though she were thinking the same thing he was.

"We've been over this already, Agent Booth. If you remember, it didn't end well for me. I don't have the strength to do it again…"

**XXXXX**

_The theory in that case was that the victim, an infant that appeared to be in good health until it's death, had been abandoned one cold night by it's mother. At least, that was what Brennan firmly believed._

_Booth was trying to prove that the woman's maternal instincts had kicked in and that it had to have been someone else who had left the baby at the feet of a monument._

"_She may have been nervous about becoming a mom before, but she was enjoying motherhood now, Bones!" Booth had said._

"_And I'm telling you that logically, because she had been resentful of her pregnancy, it is very like she did it! All the evidence agrees with me," she had replied._

"_The evidence doesn't disprove me, either! You just don't get it," he had grumbled._

"_What don't I 'get,' Booth? She did it!"_

"_She couldn't have done it! She was the baby's mother! You're not a parent, you don't understand the…" his voice trailed off and an angry look settled on her face._

"_What don't I understand?"_

"_You don't understand the emotional bond between parent and child! At least, not from the parent's standpoint," he added hurriedly, but the damage was done._

"_Maybe I don't understand that emotion. Maybe you're right. But I don't need to feel something in order to assess a case! She did it! Why can't you just accept that?"_

"_That's right, I forgot! The great Dr. Temperance Brennan doesn't need to feel anything!" he said loudly._

"_You're entitled to your own opinion. It's late and I'm going home now."_

_Her voice was too quiet, her gaze too low to meet his. _

"_Bones, I—"_

"_I'll see you Monday, Booth," she had called over her shoulder, half-way out the door._

**XXXXX**

Their argument was nothing to be proud of. In the heat of an argument, he had cut her down, and she had escaped to lick her wounds and regroup for the next workday. He hadn't realized until after she had left that she had probably heard the same thing from many people throughout her adult life. He had left, too, because he hadn't wanted to hurt her anymore, hadn't wanted her to truly believe that the person he had implied in the midst of a fight was the person he saw her as.

Temperance Brennan was not cold or unfeeling, her letters proved that. She could feel anger and hurt and resentment, and at some point all of those emotions had been directed at him.

Now all Booth had to do was fix what remained of his partner. He had to make it right.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N-** Wow, I got three reviews in just hours after posting the last chapter. Can we keep that up? Same rules apply, and just because I'm feeling grateful, here's another chapter today. It's short, but I think it's necessary.

**Disclaimer-** Funnily enough, they're not mine. Is anybody laughing?

**Pretty Please?- **Reviews? I'm down on digital bended knee here people.

**Story Summary- **Creased and worn, tired and faded, these are the fragments that remain.

**XXXXX**

"Booth? If you don't mind, I've got work to do," Brennan said, bringing his mind back from his thoughts. She pushed past him in an attempt to go onto the platform, swiping her card with perhaps more force than necessary.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled suddenly, causing her to turn away from a set of remains and fix him with her coldest glare.

"I'm sorry!" he repeated, and took a deep breath to bellow his apology a third time. It caught in his throat as she came charging back down the steps. With his forearm in a vice-like grip, she dragged him away from spying eyes and shoved him against a wall.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered furiously.

"Apologizing. I shouldn't have said those things to you, I shouldn't have left, and now I want to make it better. Do you accept my apology?"

"The one you shouted for the entire lab to hear? Not a chance!" she snapped. "This," she motioned wildly at her surroundings, "this is all I have. Do not think that you can take it away, too, by embarrassing me in front of my colleagues."

"I'm sorry," he said again, because it was the only thing he could say. "Just tell me what I have to do to fix this."

"I'm not sure you can," she mumbled, and was there a hint of regret in her voice? "I'm not sure I can trust you anymore. You walked away, and you didn't see how much I…"

She froze, pursing her lips shut and blinking her eyes in rapid succession.

"I didn't see how much you what, Bones?"

"How much I missed you," she whispered, and the admission was so quiet he wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly.

"But I'm back, Bones, I'm back, and everything will be okay now, everything's going to be okay!"

"If you could leave once, you can do it again," she said darkly. "What's to say you won't?"

"I won't leave again," he promised. "If I go you'll come with me."

"I'm not worth that attention, and once you give it to me you'll resent me for keeping you here. If every time we argue you think it was so bad you feel the need to disappear for five months, we'll never accomplish anything. Our partnership will be nonexistent, and our friendship, whatever is left of it, will fade away into nothingness. I'm not looking for more hurt."

"But I want to fix our friendship, and our partnership. Just tell me what I need to do," pleaded Booth.

"I can't start over from the beginning, and we can't pick up from where we were when you left. Agent Carter is now the liaison between us and the FBI. He and Zack work well together, despite their differences. You can't just will him away because you want to save something that might not be worth saving." Her voice was returning back to the emotionless robot that had flourished in his absence.

"You will always be worth saving," he told her, and a flicker of their old connection was back, just for a moment. "And I'll talk to Cullen, reason with Carter, anything. I just need to know, will you try to save us with me?"

The question was so filled with emotion that she found herself nodding before analyzing the situation.

"I'll tackle my demons, you tackle yours," she compromised. He couldn't miss her blatant need for independence.

"No. We're going to do this together, otherwise it's not going to work. I want you to trust me, Bones, because if you do that everything will be okay. Can you do that?"

Brown eyes met blue, searching for an answer he knew was there.

"I'll try."

And for now, it was enough.


End file.
